


event horizon

by TechnicalTragedy



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Lovers to Friends, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:06:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9435458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnicalTragedy/pseuds/TechnicalTragedy
Summary: Maybe a year apart has done them good. Maybe Percy is kidding himself.For him, it's Vax. Every time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i need more of my boys!! there's really not enough fic for percildan
> 
> very brief/nonexplicit mention of eating disorders

"Hi," Percy says into the receiver, awkward and out of place in the desolate bus terminal. The payphone feels greasy in his hand, and he won't quite let it touch his skin, but at the same time, this is the closest he can get to touching Vax when he isn't near.

There's crackling silence on the other end of the line, every so often a breath drawn like something is going to be said. Percy hopes he won't have to put more quarters in, but he has them ready just in case. 

"Percival?" Vax finally says, and his voice is an odd combination of bewilderment and hostility. It makes Percy ache to hear that too-familiar voice tinged with Vax's judge, jury, and executioner way of putting people in boxes he can understand. But Percy doesn't blame him. The science behind black holes is fascinating.

"Yeah," Percy says. His throat bobs over a swallow. He has a million things to say, but he'll start with, "Would it be okay if I came to see you?"

Vax sighs drawn out static. "Are you," he pauses, and Percy can imagine him running fingers through his thick hair, eyes closed in consternation. "You're in town, then."

Percy clears his throat, notices someone passing by and huddles closer to the box, trying to be inconspicuous. "I'm at the bus station," he says, and, "Vax, do you remember when we-"

"I, yeah," Vax says. "I remember. Do you need me to..." he trails off.

Percy bites the inside of his lip, thinking of being in such close proximity to Vax, to his most complicated relationship. A black hole almost eats light, devours everything in its path, and Percy isn't sure if it's him or Vax. "You don't have to," he says, because Vax understands that he can't ask for anything outright.

"Gods above, Freddy," Vax says with a hint of amusement in his voice, and it almost feels like nothing is different, like Percy just walked outside for some fresh air and is pulling the door closed behind him again. "I can be there in twenty minutes if traffic is good. How's that sound?"

"Thank you," Percy says.

Vax doesn't bother with a goodbye, he hates goodbye, and the dial tone clicks off once Percy puts the phone back into its holder. He feels odd, like the world is a little tilted. He'd wanted to call Vax with his own cellphone, but the parallel between then and now was too good for Percy to pass up. He remembers calling Vax on that payphone, years ago, when he was young and desperate and his reddened fingers shook almost too badly to punch in the number he knew by heart. Percy isn't that same terrified youth anymore, but Vax makes him feel like nothing else in the world ever could. How was he supposed to resist the pull?

He secures a hand tight around the strap of his messenger bag and heads for the bus terminal's bathroom.

The lights are harsh and fluorescent and Percy isn't sure he's ever looked worse. The dark circles under his eyes are pronounced, his hollow cheeks and skin pulled over his skull making him look more like a corpse than a living being. He's never thought of himself as particularly handsome, not with his too-long limbs and his soot-stained fingers and his scruffy hair. But Vax had called him beautiful anyway, a year ago, had kissed him in the park like he meant it, like the moon above them was a witness to the depth of what Vax felt for Percy. It still makes him feel guilty.

He thinks the time away has treated them well, though. They're only a city away, so tantalizingly close to one another, but when Emon has several million inhabitants, the other side of the city may as well be across the continent.

Percy splashes water on his face, slapping his cheeks to try and get color back in them. He's exhausted, unkempt, and a little sweaty, but he hopes Vax will give him a reason to stick around. The very purpose of Percy leaving has brought him back again, and while it certainly isn't for forever, because nothing is, maybe it could last long enough to be worthwhile. Maybe Percy is a pulsar, maybe he's going supernova and Vax is designed to consume him, stabilize him, counteract his bad decisions with a few of his own.

The minutes drag by, Percy trying to wake himself up and work out some of his nervous energy.

Twenty minutes pass, finding Percy outside and leaning against the wall. Twenty five minutes sees Percy scrolling through Instagram, trying not to be jealous at all the pictures of Vax and Gilmore he finds. Thirty minutes means Percy is getting impatient, checking Twitter with a frown pulling at his lips. His eyes flick up to his battery percentage and his frown deepens. After thirty-three minutes, Vax's familiar motorcycle rumbles to a stop in front of him.

Vax pushes the visor on his helmet up and meets Percy's gaze evenly. "We gonna talk about this now, or?"

Percy steps forward, taking the helmet Vax extends to him and tugging it on. "Later," he says.

He slings a leg over the bike and presses in close to Vax, his messenger bag secured between the two of them. He feels weird wrapping his arms around Vax, but does anyway, and when Vax doesn't pull away Percy figures he's fine. The motorcycle revs under Percy, and he'd almost forgotten what it felt like, much to his shame. The wind whistles past his helmet, and Percy just closes his eyes, trusting Vax to get them home safe.

And it is home, Percy supposes. The past year hasn't done much to change that.

The ride could've lasted for hours or seconds, Percy doesn't know (a lie, he knows it takes nineteen minutes on empty streets and up to an hour in traffic), but when the motorcycle stops he finds himself outside of a building he's thought of for a year. The apartment. At one point, their apartment. It's a place of memory, for Percy. He helped Vax decide on this apartment, they'd shared wine on the kitchen floor, surrounded by unopened boxes and drinking straight from the bottle after the move was done. This is where they kissed for the first time, had sex, exchanged stumbling confessions of love, fought, broke up, got back together, fought again, made up, agreed to just be friends. Percy said goodbye here, his room empty and Vax with wide eyes watching him go. The death of a star is hard to tear your eyes away from.

Percy mounts the steps, Vax climbing silently beside him.

"Is Shaun in?" Percy says, just to fill the quiet.

Vax stays silent for long moments, their feet on the stairs the only noise Percy can hear over his own pounding heartbeat. "Shaun and I are no longer together," Vax says. "We decided it would be better if we just, y'know."

"Stayed friends?" Percy finishes for him.

"Don't be like that," Vax says, sharp. "You don't have any room to judge me, de Rolo."

He doesn't, so Percy clams up.

They stop in front of Vax's apartment, and the sight of Vax unlocking the door and beckoning Percy inside is so familiar it makes him want to scream. Percy follows him in, watches as he toes off his boots, hangs his jacket on the coat tree and his keys on their hook by the door. He casts a glance back at Percy and stands in the middle of the living room with his hands on his hips, surveying him.

"How've you been?" Vax says, even though Percy knows he doesn't see the point of idle talk.

Percy shrugs. "Okay."

Vax rolls his eyes. "Have you eaten?" he asks, and Percy feels the weight in the question, feels the meal he'd forced himself to eat hours ago sitting stonelike in his belly.

"I had lunch today," he answers.

"That's good," Vax says. He settles onto the couch, sighing as he leans back to try and relax. "We'll eat together tomorrow. How long are you staying?"

Percy stands awkwardly by the door, unsure if he's welcome. "As long as you let me stay," he says.

Vax smiles at that, giving Percy a soft, fond look. "You have to go back eventually. You'll run out of sick days, for one thing."

Percy wets his lips, having half a mind to tell Vax he'd give up his job to come back, that he'd abandon his new apartment with its bare walls, he would do anything to be back here and sleep next to Vax, share meals, watch pointless television, stay up talking until one in the morning and laze around until noon. He won't, though, because the thing about a black hole is you're not supposed to want to be dragged in. "I guess you're right," Percy says. "How long do you think we can go before you kick me out?"

"Depends on the day," Vax says. "You're still my friend. No matter what."

"That's a relief," Percy says. It's genuine, heartfelt, his shoulders lighter and his white-knuckled hold loosening. Friends is definite. It's 'he isn't interested stop kidding yourself that ship has sailed.' Percy can cope with friends, he thinks.

Percy takes his bag off, and it feels like a piece of armor being stripped away. He sets it beside the couch, his coat following with a soft noise.

Vax gestures to the empty cushions, inviting Percy to sit. He does.

The television doesn't turn on like Percy expects it to. It's silent in the living room, something like anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Percy feels as if he's been transported back in time, to when nothing was wrong or off limits and Vax would sit next to him in comfortable silence, or maybe they'd talk about anything and everything. A little farther back and they'd kiss, hands roaming, hot breath caught between them, all the time in the world. Even farther back feels like a bottle of wine on the kitchen floor, comfort and triumph and independence packed up in boxes on the counters.

"Y'know," Vax says, "I do love you. Maybe it's hard to believe, especially when you've been gone for, what, almost an entire year? But if I'm being honest, some of the happiest memories I have are of you."

Percy looks at him sideways, and Vax is staring up at the ceiling, his profile in sharp relief against the white wall to his right. "I love you, too," Percy says.

Vax still doesn't look at him, but his face goes pinched, he bites into his lower lip. Percy wonders if he's said something wrong, then feels Vax's fingers bump up against his, their pinkies sliding against each other and curling together. "Yeah," Vax says. "I know you do."

And Percy doesn't know what this means, he doesn't even know why he got on the bus and came here, he just felt the need. Maybe he's not quite sure what to do when Vax turns his head and fixes him with a shy smile that turns Percy's insides to mush, or how to do anything other than hold Vax's hand and hope he can understand that he's ready, he's been ready. No one knows what happens when you cross the event horizon of a black hole. Everyone has a guess, no one has an answer, no one's ever tried. Percy squeezes Vax's hand and thinks, maybe once you go through that black hole, it takes you back home.

For him, it's Vax. It's never been anything else.


End file.
